


Jasper and Peridot Conquer AP Literature!

by ThinCeiling



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3651222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinCeiling/pseuds/ThinCeiling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU! When Peridot is assigned to be project partners with Jasper, she considers impaling herself on a rusty knife. After all, she's just a lame nerd, and Jasper's a popular linebacker. Yet as they work together, Peridot develops feelings for Jasper... strange, warm feelings... of absolute hatred, because Jasper is an insufferable dickhead. (Also they fall in love.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Incest

Peridot slunk into AP literature. As usual, the classroom was empty; not even Mr. Maheswaran had arrived yet. After all, most students used the three minutes between classes to chat, text, and whine about their teachers. _Most_ students-- not Peridot. She was above such childish nonsense. She had a plan for high school: don't make waves, keep to herself, and stay in the background. She was like a shadow; yes, a shadow; unnoticed. Safe.

She pulled out her laptop and began to type. Her classmates trickled into the room with clockwork predictability. First came the other achievers-- Pearl, Lapis, YD. Then the mediocre students-- Garnet, Ronaldo, Sadie. Finally, the slackers-- Amethyst, Lars, and...

“Hey, Kim!”

Peridot’s fingers spasmed over the keyboard; she deposited a string of unintelligible spam into her code.

And _Jasper_.

Peridot knew three things about Jasper. One: she was a linebacker. Two: her daily caloric intake was large enough to power a small third world country. And three: she was the most insufferable person in the history of everything. If Peridot was a shadow, Jasper was the sun-- harsh, demanding, all-consuming. She thought that the universe revolved around her.

Ugh. She couldn’t stand her. Yet cruel fate (and a reverse alphabetical seating arrangement) placed Jasper Latu in the seat in front of Peridot for every. Single. Class.

“Latu.” Her fingers curled. “I’d love to chat, but I’m busy.”

Jasper unplugged one of her earbuds. Heavy metal blasted from it, filled with profane lyrics. She held out a hand. “I need your lit homework, smartass.” Even her palms were muscular. Christ. “C’mon, Maheswaran’s gonna come in a minute.”

Oh, right.

“Ugh. Fine.” Peridot reached into her messenger bag. She thumbed through her subject files-- red for calc, green for bio, blue for comp sci-- and took out a yellow folder neatly labeled ‘AP LIT’ in black Sharpie. On the rare occasions that Jasper returned her homework, it was stained with blue Gatorade, Cheeto dust, or gym chalk. Once, Peridot received a crushed cockroach. It was impressive, really, how much damage Jasper could inflict upon a sheet of paper. She probably got off on it.

She wasn’t scared of Jasper. (Hah! As if that hypermasculine macho-girl behavior could scare her. No, Peridot could see through her like glass. She had daddy issues. Or mommy issues. The specifics didn’t matter-- she just had issues.) Peridot and Jasper simply had a mutually beneficial arrangement: she would give Jasper her homework, and Jasper wouldn’t beat her face in.

“Now, please leave me alone.” She handed over her homework and returned the file to her bag. “Unlike some people, I have unplagiarized work to do.”

“Yeah?” Jasper narrowed her eyes. “Well, unlike some people, I have friends.”

“Really.” She regarded her with icy disdain. “I’d think that licking YD’s boots would make you pathetic, not a friend.”

Jasper slammed the laptop lid onto her hands. She yelped and tore her fingers away. “Thought so,” cackled Jasper as she replugged her earbuds. Anger surged through Peridot’s veins. _See? She’s fucking insufferable. Don’t associate with people like her._

The bell rang. The classroom hushed as Mr. Maheswaran strode into the room. Grumbling, Peridot slipped the laptop into her bag.

“Hello, class!” said Mr. Maheswaran.

“Hello, Mr. Maheswaran,” the class murmured.

“Now, now!” Mr. Maheswaran smiled. “Friday is hi-day. Let’s try that again. Hello, class!”

“Hello, Mr. Maheswaran!” the class chanted. Mr. Maheswaran smiled, and turned to write on the whiteboard. “Today, we’ll be discussing your term one project.”

Disinterested, the class simmered with chatter. “God, what a try-hard,” Jasper snickered to another linebacker. Someone near the back-- Amethyst, probably-- blasted pop music from their earbuds. Peridot rifled through her bag to find her lit folder. She accidentally grabbed her tablet. She moved to shove it back into her bag, but it slipped from her grip and clattered onto the floor. It landed next to Jasper’s size 13 foot. Peridot lurched forward as Jasper snatched the tablet from the floor.

“Oho!” Jasper held it aloft. Panic clawed at her throat. She lunged. “Give it back!”

Jasper laughed and dangled it out of her reach. “Someone’s desperate,” she sang as she batted Peridot’s grasping hands aside.

“Stop!” Peridot’s eyes widened as Jasper turned on the tablet. “Stop--”

Her lockscreen featured Firecracker Jinx from League of Legends wearing a qipao with a high slit up the side, showing firm, milky thighs. Jinx was furiously making out with Vi.

Jasper’s eyes boggled out of her skull. “What.”

“Don’t-- don’t--” Peridot snatched back the tablet. “Don’t touch my things!”

“All right, class,” said Mr. Maheswaran, and Peridot was never more grateful for an interruption. She stuffed the tablet back into her bag. “Don’t--” she stalwartly avoided eye contact. Her cheeks burned with the fury of a thousand naked suns. “Don’t-- shut up--”

Jasper gawped at her, horrified. “The shit.”

“Language,” Mr. Maheswaran snapped. “And attention, please.” Jasper snapped her mouth shut. “Thank you. As I was saying…”

Peridot lowered her steaming face to the surface of her desk. Yep. This was it. She might as well jump off a building. Or impale herself on a dull kitchen knife. Or fly into the fucking sun. Because her life was over.

“...as follows.” Mr. Maheswaran pointed a remote at the overhead projector. The fan whined as it was roused from slumber. “Find your partner, please.”

She raised her head. ‘Peridot Kim’ was at the bottom of the Word document, right next to ‘Jasper Latu.’

“Shit,” Peridot muttered.

“Shit!” Jasper exclaimed.

“Language!” Mr. Maheswaran said. “Now, class, get to work.”

Peridot closed her eyes. Ha. Ha. Hagggh. Forget about her lockscreen-- her AP literature grade was going to shrivel and die like a fetus torn prematurely from the womb. And her GPA-- her GPA! If Pearl fucking Gilligan snatched valedictorian from under her nose, she swore to God, she was razing this godforsaken establishment to ashes.

“What was _that?_ ”

Peridot opened her eyes. It took her a few seconds to realize that Jasper was talking about her lockscreen. “It’s none of your business.” Jasper snickered. “And it’s _not weird_!” Jasper’s snicker turned into a bona fide snort. “The contents of my lockscreen are irrelevant,” Peridot snarled. “We need to discuss the project, which is, need I remind you, eighty percent of our--”

“Aren’t they sisters?”

“--eighty percent of our--”

“So that’s incest.”

“eighty percent of our--”

“You’re into incest.”

“-- _ **eighty! Percent! Of! Our! Term one grade** **!**_ ” Peridot slammed her fist on the table. Pearl glanced over. She looked concerned for Peridot’s mental health.

“Fine,” Jasper snorted. "Let’s talk project.”

Peridot pressed her lips together. Fury simmered in her gut as she squinted at the whiteboard.

**DUE FRIDAY OCTOBER 31:**

An original typed screenplay, 100+ pages.  
An original short film, 100+ minutes.  
A reflection, one per group member. 3 pages minimum.

Her head ached. She took a deep breath to flush out her violent fantasies. Of course she _wanted_ to imagine Jasper getting torn to shreds by an army of fire ants, but her lit grade came first. It had to. It always did. “Let me guess," Peridot said sourly. "I’m doing all of it." It wasn’t a question; it was a statement of fact. “Well, too bad-- I'm not. I’m taking six AP classes. You’ll need to do some of the work-- that is, if you want an A.”

“Tch.” Jasper crossed her arms underneath her chest. To her surprise, Jasper seemed to be considering her proposition. She raised her eyebrows. Why... did Jasper Latu suddenly care about her lit grade? It was uncharacteristic, and unnerving. Linebackers didn’t just...

Oh, wait. She didn’t care.

“If you want to help, fine." She zipped up her bag, _shwwp._  "If you don’t, fine.” She could handle this project on her own if she had to. “I’ll be in the library tomorrow until six.”

“I have to hit the gym.”

She snorted. _Typical_. “What you do with your time doesn’t concern me.” Peridot sniffed. “If you want to work on the project, you’ll know where to find me.”

The bell rang. The room bustled with activity as students grabbed their books, pens, phones and filed for the door. “Oh, and you don’t have to return my homework.” Peridot got up. “I’ve gotten into the habit of writing two copies. You can keep your coffee stains and cockroaches, thanks.”

Jasper’s eyebrows drew together as Peridot grabbed her bulging messenger bag and left.

 


	2. Soh-Cah-Toa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jasper and Peridot's first project session in the library goes well! Ahhahaha. That's a funny joke

It was just her luck to be stuck with the weirdest weirdo in Beach High. Peridot probably owned cartoon figurines and body pillows and anime dildos and… Ugh, God, what a fucking freak _._

“WITH A THOUSAND LIES AND A GOOD DISGUISE–”

Jasper shook her head. Focus. The rock blaring from her Beats pill helped to clear her mind. 

“HIT ‘EM RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES–”

She heaved the barbell, all 265 pounds of it, to the top of her range of motion. Her knuckles turned white around the bar– the overhead lights flared– then she racked the iron with a deafening clang. Some kid on the bicep curl glanced over. She raised a hackle at him. “Something on my face?”

He paled with recognition. “Nothin’, Latu,” he stammered. He dropped his gaze and furiously pumped his dumbbells. Buck, her spotter, stepped out from behind the bench. “I press, like, eighty percent of that.”

“Pah.” She knocked her knuckles against his. “You wish your max was one sixty five.”

“Yo. That’s unfair.”

Jasper got up as bitter sweat trickled into her eyes. “Out-bench me, then.” She ripped off her wrist wraps and dropped them into her gym bag. “So, where’s YD?”

“Couldn’t make it.” Buck lay down on the bench. “Student council meeting.” 

Of course. She grunted as she clipped the weights. “Ready?”  She handed him the barbell. His skinny arms trembled under the weight of a full plate and a half.

“Dude, come on,” Jasper snorted.

The bar came down, fast, uncertain, jerky– hit his chest and flew. Jasper touched her fingers to the bar. “C’mon! Up, up!”

Her phone buzzed. Jasper dropped her fingers from the bar to swipe it open.

_YD: Do your project._

“Jasper!!”

She blinked. Buck was squirming underneath 160 pounds of iron. “Ah, shit–” She stuffed the phone into her pocket and lifted the bar off his torso. Buck let out a great shuddering gasp of air, and fell limp against the bench. “What the heck, man.”

“My bad.”

“SEE THE LIGHTNING IN YOUR EYES, SEE ‘EM RU–” 

She slammed a fist onto her Beats pill to silence it. Suddenly, you could hear sneakers squeaking, sweat crawling, hearts pounding. “And now I gotta jet– lit project.”

“You’re kidding, dude.”

“Studies call.”

He pucked his lips. “Since when did Jasper care about her lit grade?”

She stowed her speaker into her gym bag. “Since none of your damn business.”

* * *

Jasper (and anyone with a social life) avoided the library for two reasons: the books and the nerds.

Next to the help desk, a bespectacled sophomore browsed a dusty shelf of poetry. Scrawny kids hunched over their homework at long tables, and a group of ninth graders hammered away at their laptops in the “Study Circle”– a roped-off area populated by comfy beanbags and low desks.  

She tightened the strap of her gym bag. She could practically  _feel_ the mouth-breathers on her neck. Where the  _fuck_ was Peridot. “Yo, Kim!” Jasper raised her voice. “I’m here! Where are–”

A dark figure swooped upon her, all flashing eyes and teeth. Jasper’s eyes widened. “s i l e n c e,” the person (person?) rasped. She slapped a pink slip into Jasper’s palm. Ah, right. The librarian. 

“o n e  m a r k  f o r  y o u,  m . s . l a t u.”

“Damn,” she muttered.

“l a n g u a g e,” the librarian whispered. She slapped another slip into her palm. “t h r e e  m a r k s  b e g e t  d e t e n t i o n. d o  i  m a k e  m y s e l f  c l e a r?”

The entire library was staring. She turned red. “Yeah. Whatever. Fine.” Satisfied, the librarian sank into the darkness.

“Acting the buffoon must be second nature.” 

She turned around. Disdain was etched in the premature wrinkles of Peridot’s face. “Your ass is second nature,” she shot back.

Peridot raised an eyebrow up at her– apparently, she did not deem the insult worthy of reply. “You reek of sweat.” She whipped around. “We’re wasting time. Follow me.”

She led her to a secluded corner where someone had shoved a square table against the wall.  Light filtered through the shutters of a high window. It wasn’t the roomiest place to study, nor was it the most aesthetically pleasing, but at least there was a slim chance of someone seeing them. She had a reputation to maintain. 

Peridot sat. “I’ve taken the liberty of starting.”

“Oh. Great.” Jasper sat, too. The seat was too small for her– she felt like an adult hulking in a child’s playpen. “What’s it about?”

Peridot tapped a few keys on her laptop. “See for yourself– but be careful,” she snapped when Jasper’s big hands reached for the delicate laptop.

“Chill. I know how to use a computer.”

Peridot’s browser was opened to a Google doc titled “AP Literature Project: The Love Story of MedoHamu.”  Jasper raised her eyebrows. “Romance? Seriously?”

“Romance stories are formulaic. Formulaic,” she repeated, as though speaking to a foreigner, “means predictable and easy to replicate, hence my choice of–”

“I know what formulaic means!”

Peridot pursed her lips. “If you take issue with the script, feel free to rewrite it.”

Jasper muttered something about self-righteous assholes as she lowered her gaze to the screen. The doc was formatted strangely: Courier font and phrases like “INT.” and arbitrarily capitalized words. Jasper struggled to make sense of the script without Googling “how to read a screenplay.”

Jasper indicated a section of dialogue. “I don’t like this part. It’s… ” She made vague motions in the air. “Stupid.”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you for your constructive input.”

“Can it. You know what I mean.” Jasper pulled out a water bottle filled with protein shake. A hollow steel ball rolled around inside. “No one says shit like that. It’s hard to believe.”

Peridot peered at the offending dialogue. “You mean when Hamura vows to protect Meduka?” She studied the lines, then muttered, “My dialogue isn’t stupid.”

“Yeah, right,” snorted Jasper.

“But I understand.” Peridot pulled her laptop toward herself. “I’ll redo this part later.” She tapped a few keys. “Hmph. I’m impressed.”

When Peridot didn’t continue, Jasper crossed her arms and took the bait. “What?”

Peridot raised an eyebrow. “You’re actually helping.”

Jasper shifted in her too-small seat. “No shit. I want a good grade.”

“Any other comments?”

“Yeah.” Jasper shook her bottle. The hollow ball clattered, jarring, arrhythmic. “The names are fucking weird.”

Peridot squinted. “Do you have to do that?”

Clatter, clatter. “Do what?”

“You know what I mean.”

Clatter, clatter. “No?”

Peridot’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Stop shaking your stupid bottle.”

“It’s called a protein  _shake_.” Jasper shook the bottle with renewed vigor. Inside, the ball ricocheted off the plastic walls like a Mexican jumping bean. “Not a protein  _still_.”

Peridot glowered, then typed furiously. Jasper smirked and slowed the tempo of her shaking. She was uncapping her bottle when Peridot’s laptop exploded with music.

“ _Trigonometry pro I know you know!_ ”

Jasper dropped her drink. It spilled all over the desk. “Shit–”

_“I go psycho when I see a triangle!”_

“Shut it off!”

Peridot tapped a few keys. The volume increased from “sledgehammer” to “hellish wails of the damned.”

**_“SOH-CAH-TOA WILL TELL YOU WHERE TO GO!”_ **

“Woops,” Peridot said.

“Fucking! Shut! It! off!”

And Peridot did. An unnatural chill ran down Jasper’s spine. She turned around.

The librarian did not reach Jasper’s waist, yet she loomed over them both. “d i s t u r b a n c e  o f  p e a c e,” she whispered. She raised her sinewy arms in supplication to some primitive and bellacose god.  “i n a p p r o p r i a t e  l a n g u a g e. s p i l l i n g  d r i n k s  i n  a  n o - d r i n k s  a r e a.”

Jasper narrowed her eyes. “You’re kidding!”

“a n d  i n s o l e n c e.” Jasper opened her mouth to retort. The librarian interrupted by slapping a pink slip into her hand, then turned to Peridot. “a n d  y o u –”

Peridot, who had been snickering at Jasper’s plight, froze.

“d e t e n t i o n.” The librarian slapped a pink slip into Peridot’s hand, too. “n e x t  m o n d a y. b o t h  o f  y o u.”

Jasper and Peridot’s faces fell in tandem. “I have practice Mondays!” Jasper protested.

“ t o o  b a d.” The librarian melted into the darkness. As soon as she was gone, Jasper jumped to her feet. Veins bulged from the side of her thick neck. “Great!” she fumed. “Happy now?”

“You’re acting immature,” Peridot said. “I’ll be in detention, too. We’re both being punished.” She could see the muscles ripple and tense underneath Jasper’s Dri-fit shirt. 

“I don’t have time for this shit,” muttered Jasper as she grabbed her gym bag. She raised her voice. “Do everyone a favor and fuck yourself.” She shrugged the bag onto her shoulder and stormed toward the entrance.

Peridot pinched the bridge of her nose. Perfect. First a project with Jasper, now detention with Jasper… And on a Monday, of all days. What a fucking mess. If her parents knew–

“They won’t,” she said aloud. She sighed and returned to the document. 

It was just her luck to be stuck with the cloddiest clod in Beach High.

 


End file.
